Nylon Smile
by ann veal
Summary: A short one-shot that I may expand to three parts at some stage. Set during that tragic middle school party.


If you hadn't heard grass crush underfoot, you would have started at the sound of her voice.

The night was still, and you had escaped the din to sit quietly alone in the darkness. The loud shouts and throbbing bass, out here, were muted and hanging in the night's heavy air. Faded to nothing but a dull pulse that echoed in your chest.

"Alright?" it's tentative, the question, and followed by silent hesitation.

You don't really respond, don't even open your eyes, as you tilt your head back and hum an acknowledgment. Shift your weight slightly, waiting for it to be interpreted as an invitation.

When she remains still, you open your eyes lazily and let them fall to the ground to where her canvas sneakers have settled beside you on the grass.

It's cool, the grass, dewy, and is in such sharp contrast with the humid air, that you revel in the feel of it against the backs of your legs. You enjoy the way the blades press into the heels of your hands, leaving crisp indents in your skin.

"Do you want to sit?" you ask, not altering your gaze. Watch her feet shuffle as she shifts her weight from side to side. Let your eyes drift to her elongated shadow as it dances beside yours in the distant glow from inside. "Go on, then," you add after several long seconds, tapping the ash off your fag as you nod your head at the empty spot beside you. Finally she complies, lowering herself slowly to the ground to sit cross-legged to your left.

"Fucking awful party," she mutters quietly, and you shrug in response, "I don't even know why I came."

"Because of your sister," you state simply, and see her nod in your periphery.

In the silence that follows, you can hear her nervous inhalations, ones that you are sure preface all manner of small talk, but with every released breath, her sentences are discarded one after the other. Finally, she asks, "why did you come?"

"Dunno," you shrug, "I was invited, so I came." You don't mean it to sound brusque, but you like the simplicity of fact. In truth, you don't know why you are here. Tonight, or any other night. This, or any other stupid party.

You have friends, of course. Or rather, people who seek your company (who are not necessarily people whose company you seek). You have people to arrive with, at least. People to pass the time with, while you wait for something better.

These nights are all starting to bleed together, and you have tired of them quickly. Of the way they all look the same. And the way they end the same way as well. With you in the garden, fag in hand, waiting in the darkness alone.

"Fair enough," she responds weakly.

And again you're sitting in silence, the seconds stretching elastic between you.

"Smoke?" you offer, wondering (not for the first time) how people manage to make it look so easy to just weave conversation out of thin air.

She nods and you turn to face her fully, handing her a newly lit fag.

She smiles then, and it turns mischievous when she adds, "I nicked a can of cider, want to share?"

You smile too, and extend your hand as she cracks it open. Take a sloppy gulp before returning it.

"I like your hair," you offer out of nowhere, and immediately regret it when you register her surprise.

"Thanks, I," she pauses, suddenly self-conscious, her hand finding its way to her face where she touches her fringe, "it's new."

You just nod and face away, painfully aware of her discomfort under your scrutiny.

"Katie, she," she begins but lapses into another awkward pause, "it was her idea."

"It looks nice," you exhale with a plume of smoke, your tone light, "I'm thinking of going blonde. Like really, really blonde."

She smiles then, you can hear it in her voice, "I think it would suit you."

She's so genuine, you think, so fucking genuine. And nice. So fucking nice.

"Yeah?" you ask, trying and failing to stem the flush that is rising in your cheeks, "really?"

She nods and licks her lips, tilts her head, just slightly, "yeah," she smiles, throws you a sideways glance, "really."


End file.
